


Late Night

by The_Norsiest



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Boyfriends, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Turbolift, mentions of Klingon poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24375352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Norsiest/pseuds/The_Norsiest
Summary: Inspired by a picture from Tumblr I wrote a story about Riker kissing Worf in the turbolift. Just a bit of fluff for your enjoyment!
Relationships: William Riker/Worf
Comments: 12
Kudos: 59





	Late Night

The party had gone off without a hitch! Well, as long as you didn’t count the assasination attempt on ambassador Tek. But after a long week that included first contact with a gaseous cloud, diverting an engineering disaster which would have blown up half a star system, and fumbling through one of Beverly’s plays that he’d not been properly prepared for, Riker was inclined to mark the dinner as successful no matter what had happened. He entered the turbolift with a yawn and was joined by Lt. Worf. 

The Klingon nodded as he stepped inside and the automatic doors whooshed shut. For a moment there was silence before the turbolift buzzed and the lights flashed as they passed each deck, indicating their movement. “Long evening, sir?” Worf asked, facing forward as he addressed the other. 

The commander gave a sarcastic laugh. “Like you would not believe. We’re lucky you were able to find the hitman before he got to Tek.” 

Worf’s posture straightened; he was quite pleased with himself at how he’d found the assassin, right before poison had been slipped into the ambassador’s drink. He’d tackled him to the ground and subdued the assailant beneath the table. No one had even noticed the skirmish due to Worf’s keen ability to knock a man out cold with such little effort. Yes, he was very proud of the part he played in foiling the would-be murder. His chest puffed out, “Thank you, sir, but it was not luck. I take my security duties very seriously.” 

In spite of his tiredness, Riker’s eyes sparkled as he surveyed him; the Klingon’s posturing was too damn cute. “It’s alright, Worf, we’re alone and off duty; you don’t have to stand on ceremony,” he reassured him. 

Worf relaxed, just a little and looked down to the floor. He was still a bit shy over their new and less formal relationship. “I suppose… you’ll be wanting to get some sleep?” he asked cautiously, turning to Riker. “I would not blame you for canceling our plans in order to get rest. After all, your health is very important to the ship.” 

Will could have laughed but he didn’t, instead he playfully made a show of reaching up and stroking his beard as if he were in deep contemplation. “Hmm, go straight to bed and get some sleep, end my evening with one of Tek’s bad jokes still in my head, and cancel the plans I made with my boyfriend?” he considered before turning bright eyes back to Worf “Not a chance.” 

The Lt. tried to hide the grin on his face, allowing it to rise more on the cheek opposite Will. But despite the pleasing tone the word carried from Riker, Worf crossed his arms over his chest. “I do not care for that ‘human’ term” he half grunted in argument. “I am hardly a ‘boy’” 

Will didn’t think his partner could get more adorable, “I’ll be sure to search for a more appropriate term.” he offered. They were nearly to their floor and the lift felt unusually slow this evening. It made Riker wonder how much time they had, how much he could get away with before the doors burst open and they’d be exposed to any passing ensign that might be working the night shift. He decided it was worth the risk of being caught and took a step closer to bridge the space between himself and Worf. His eyes flitted over the strong jaw and supple lips of his security officer. “You will read me some of that Klingon Poetry tonight won’t you?” he asked in a low voice, his face inching nearer. 

Worf, unable to meet the man’s eye, could hardly subdue the smile as it spread across his features. The slightest and smallest growl issuing from his throat as he thought of the prospect. “It… It would be my honor.” he conceded. 

Riker reached up, forcing the turn of the Klingon’s head. He guided him as he leaned in closer, feeling Worf’s sharp intake of breath as his lips parted in greeting. It was a warm embrace of affection, soft but eager, with plenty of passion between them. The experienced commander took his time savoring the mouth against his own; never surprised by how each kiss was like the first and overtook his senses. 

He was starting to like Klingon poetry.


End file.
